


Because You're Worth It

by Hepzheba



Series: Tumblr ficlets [27]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Coach Derek, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Lacrosse Player Stiles, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 20:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3262673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hepzheba/pseuds/Hepzheba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's been watching one of the players ever since he started co-coaching the lacrosse team. Suddenly, he's presented with the chance to get what he's dreamed of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ezra Fitz: Teacher/Student tension
> 
> I don't do well with teacher/student relationships so I turned it into coach/lacrosse player relationship (well, co-coach because Finstock is still there). 
> 
> About the title: I couldn't resist.
> 
> This story has two chapters, the first one without anal sex and the other with an alternate ending that features some anal sex in the shower. Both chapters are identical up to this point and I've marked it so that you'll know where it is, if you want to read both endings, but not the whole thing again.

The lacrosse practice ended an hour ago, Coach Finstock was gone as soon as he had blown the whistle, leaving Derek, his co-coach (more like slave, really) to lock up the locker-room when all the boys were done showering.

It’s been an hour since then and Derek’s finished the paperwork for the day. He stretches as he gets up from the chair by the desk and slowly makes his way out of the door, locking the office before crossing the hall to the boy’s locker-room. The light is out but he can hear the sound of the showers running. Stupid boys forgetting to shut off the water, he thinks. If it had been the junior team he wouldn’t say too much about it, but most of the players are seniors, they should really have learnt to shut off a freaking shower.

He stops dead in the doorway to the shower room, staring as water slides down a pale, muscular back. Derek can’t help but follow the water’s path with his eyes, trailing over the muscular planes of the shoulders, the slim waist and pert, round ass.

_God_ , Derek wants to _do_ things to that ass.

“I’m locking up in ten minutes,” he says, voice rough and he likes to pretend it’s from being silent for an hour or maybe from yelling at the players earlier, but honestly? That has nothing to do with it.

The boy – the man, he’s eighteen, Derek’s checked – moans and Derek’s eyes widen as he realizes that the man’s hand is moving, Derek can only see the elbow moving from where he’s standing. Not that he’d want to see anything else.

Who is he kidding? He’s been watching Stiles since day one when he started coaching the Beacon Hills High’s lacrosse team four months ago. Stiles is funny and sarcastic but also scarily smart and kind to those who deserve it. He banter with Derek, never misses a beat to anything Derek tells them to do. He also supports his best friend, taking him to the hospital when he had a bad asthma attack even though it meant that he wouldn’t get to play in the upcoming game when he was supposed to play first string for the first time.

And now, seeing Stiles naked, wet and shamelessly jerking himself Derek _wants_. It’s not illegal, Derek’s not a teacher, but it’s unethical and Derek wouldn’t ever do anything about his ridiculous infatuation. Except, apparently, not being able to stop staring as Stiles moans and arches his back, the left hand going up to brace himself against the wall in front of him as he leans his head down between his shoulders.

Derek knows he should stop looking, knows he should turn away. He knows this but yet…

“Are you just going to watch or would you like to help me out?” Stiles voice is a bit throaty and the kid looks over his shoulder, meeting Derek’s eyes unashamed, and fucking _winks_. The movements of his hand don’t falter once.

“You’re a kid,” Derek says, throat clicking.

“I’m eighteen,” Stiles replies cheekily and don’t Derek know it. “Please, Coach Hale.”

“Don’t call me that,” Derek says instead of ‘get your pants on and get out of here’ which is what he’d tell anyone else. After all, Stiles isn’t the first student that has tried to seduce him. He’s the only one Derek’s ever wanted though.

“Derek,” Stiles moans instead, sending shivers down Derek’s spine. “Please, I want you, _fuck_.”

Stiles shudders visibly and Derek must be crazy but he steps up behind Stiles, not caring that his clothes and shoes gets wet. He presses his whole front to Stiles’ back, hoping this isn’t some elaborate plan to get him fired, and circles Stiles’ waist with his arms. Stiles leans his head back and sighs.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you…” Stiles groans and Derek mouths at his jawline.

He sneaks a hand around Stiles and covers Stiles’ hand with his own. He looks down over Stiles’ shoulder at their joined hands over Stiles’ dick. It’s flushed pink and so hard. Derek flicks his thumb over the head. He wants to get down on his knees and taste him, but Stiles is whining and bucking against him, his hand now gripping Derek’s forearm instead.

“Shit, fuck, I’mma-”

“Yeah,” Derek whispers and bites softly on Stiles’ jaw as he jerks him quickly. Stiles arches his back again, thrusting his ass against Derek’s jean clad – and very hard – cock, and moaning loudly. He shudders as he comes and Derek jerks him slowly until Stiles makes a pitiful sound in the back of his throat.

“Fuck,” Stiles mutters and leans his forehead against the wall, his ass still pressed against Derek’s crotch. “Give me a few minutes and then you can fuck me.”

Derek groans at that. He’s been dreaming about fucking Stiles, almost everywhere, but he must’ve fantasized about fucking Stiles in the showers at least a dozen times.

“Are you sure?” Derek leans forward and presses soft kisses to Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles turns his head and smiles at him.

“I’ve been dreaming about you since I was a freshman,” he says, “You were a senior, I doubt you noticed me.”

Derek hadn’t. He swallows. He’s not sure if this is just some fantasy of Stiles’ that he’s fulfilling or if it’s something more. God, does he want it to be something more, but if this is all he can have then he’ll take it.

Stiles smiles and presses their lips together. Derek sighs and tugs softly at Stiles’ hair, trying to angle his head better for kissing. Stiles grins as he turns around and leans against the wall, tugging Derek against him with his fingers in Derek’s belt loops. Derek kisses him, this angle is much better. He uses everything he’s learnt, licking at Stiles’ lips and biting them softly, making sure they’ll be puffy pink for at least an hour afterwards. Stiles leans his head back against the tiles and gasps while Derek wastes no time to kiss Stiles’ throat, licking and sucking on the pale, sensitive skin there. Stiles moans as he curls his hand into Derek’s hair.

“Fuck, I’m ready soon,” he moans and Derek smiles at the teenage stamina.

“Are you sure?” he asks again, leaning back to look Stiles in the eye. Stiles’ usually light-brown eyes are almost covered by the pupils and the eye-lashes have clustered together because of the water, a few droplets clinging to the hairs still. Stiles’ cheeks are flushed pink and his lips are wet and red. He’s gorgeous.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“I-” Derek hesitates, wonders if he’s even in a position to ask for anything Stiles hasn’t asked for.

“What?”

“Can I rim you?”

Stiles groans and staggers in Derek’s arms – Derek’s pretty sure he’d fallen if Derek hadn’t had his arms around him.

“Fuck, yeah,” he moans and Derek smiles and leans in to kiss him filthily, thrusting in his tongue the same way he’ll soon do to Stiles’ ass. He can’t wait.

“Turn around,” he says and Stiles scrambles to obey. He leans one hand against the tiles again.

“Like this?”

Derek nods and sinks to his knees so he’s in eye-level with Stiles’ ass. Stiles’ beautiful, perfect ass. He squeezes the globes of his ass cheeks, reveling in how they’re the perfect size for his hands. Stiles makes an unintelligent sound from above him and leans both hands against the wall. Derek spreads the cheeks and watches as Stiles’ pink hole flutters as waters dribble down over it. He leans in and licks once over the hole.

“Oh, fuck!” Stiles swears and moves so he can lean his elbows against the wall instead. At the same time he spreads his legs and pushes out his ass. He’s totally unashamed. Derek loves it.

He kisses Stiles’ hole again, licks with the flat of his tongue, and Stiles moans softly above him. Derek varies the broad licks with harsher stabs of his tongue right against Stiles’ hole and when he feels less resistance pushes his tongue inside. Stiles makes a sobbing sound and chants swearwords and praises and Derek’s name under his breath. Derek doesn’t know how long he eats Stiles out but his jaw and tongue start to get sore so instead he moves his head away, kisses Stiles’ ass cheek as he pushes one finger inside. Stiles arches his back and moans loudly when Derek prods at his prostate.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants. “It’s never felt this good with my own finger. Jesus, fuck, Derek.”

“Have you ever…?”

Derek doesn’t know how to ask if Stiles is a virgin. He has always assumed he isn’t, because with those hands and hips people should line up to fuck him or get fucked by him.

“Had sex with someone other than myself? Have you met me? People don’t want to sex me up.”

“ _I_ want to sex you up,” Derek counters as he fucks his finger into Stiles’ ass, feeling the heat and tight walls around it. Fuck, it’ll feel amazing around his dick.

“You’ve probably hit your head one too many times,” Stiles grins down cheekily and Derek can’t have him talking about himself like that. He pulls out his finger, smiling at the sound of disappointment Stiles makes, and gets to his feet in one swift motion. He turns Stiles around so they’re face to face.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he says, frowning at Stiles, who rolls his eyes. “I’m serious. I _want_ you.”

Stiles snorts.

“Yeah, probably because I was _presenting_ myself to you. Finstock has already walked in three times when I was waiting for you, it was quite embarrassing.”

Derek can’t help but chuckle at that, but he needs to address the most important issue here.

“I want you, Stiles. Not because I walked in on you. I’ve been watching you since I started here. I risk losing my job for this, you know that right?”

Something in Stiles’ face hardens and he takes a small step backwards, so his back is against the wall.

“Right, I get it, I’ll just-”

“Don’t you get it?” Derek says and tightens his hold on Stiles’ waist. “You’re worth it. You’re worth losing my job.”

Stiles’ eyes widen and Derek wants to take back what he said. It’s one thing to admit that he’s been looking at Stiles like some creep, another thing entirely to confess his love to him. Stiles’ next movement isn’t to pull away though, but practically throw himself at Derek, his arms winding around Derek’s neck as he crashes their lips together. Derek smiles into the kiss and presses their bodies together.

 

[From here there’s a different ending in chapter two]

 

“Fuck, I forgot to bring lube,” Stiles swears and Derek leans their foreheads together as he laughs softly, because how could he not?

“I have some at my place,” he says, “if you want to come with me home?”

Stiles looks at him, face bright and smiling.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Derek smiles and kisses him.

It still takes them half an hour to leave the showers because Stiles started rutting against Derek’s leg and then Derek had to get down on his knees and blow him, there really was no other option. Derek’s glad he’s got spare clothes so he doesn’t have to walk home in his wet clothes. But when he looks at Stiles who walks beside him, holding his hand as he talks about superheroes, Derek thinks he wouldn’t even mind walking home in wet clothes. Some things are worth it. _Stiles_ is worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a mark with [alternate ending] if you have read the first chapter and only want to read the smut (which is all this story is *blushes*)

The lacrosse practice ended an hour ago, Coach Finstock was gone as soon as he had blown the whistle, leaving Derek, his co-coach (more like slave, really) to lock up the locker-room when all the boys were done showering.

It’s been an hour since then and Derek’s finished the paperwork for the day. He stretches as he gets up from the chair by the desk and slowly makes his way out of the door, locking the office before crossing the hall to the boy’s locker-room. The light is out but he can hear the sound of the showers running. Stupid boys forgetting to shut off the water, he thinks. If it had been the junior team he wouldn’t say too much about it, but most of the players are seniors, they should really have learnt to shut off a freaking shower.

He stops dead in the doorway to the shower room, staring as water slides down a pale, muscular back. Derek can’t help but follow the water’s path with his eyes, trailing over the muscular planes of the shoulders, the slim waist and pert, round ass.

 _God_ , Derek wants to _do_ things to that ass.

“I’m locking up in ten minutes,” he says, voice rough and he likes to pretend it’s from being silent for an hour or maybe from yelling at the players earlier, but honestly? That has nothing to do with it.

The boy – the man, he’s eighteen, Derek’s checked – moans and Derek’s eyes widen as he realizes that the man’s hand is moving, Derek can only see the elbow moving from where he’s standing. Not that he’d want to see anything else.

Who is he kidding? He’s been watching Stiles since day one when he started coaching the Beacon Hills High’s lacrosse team four months ago. Stiles is funny and sarcastic but also scarily smart and kind to those who deserve it. He banter with Derek, never misses a beat to anything Derek tells them to do. He also supports his best friend, taking him to the hospital when he had a bad asthma attack even though it meant that he wouldn’t get to play in the upcoming game when he was supposed to play first string for the first time.

And now, seeing Stiles naked, wet and shamelessly jerking himself Derek _wants_. It’s not illegal, Derek’s not a teacher, but it’s unethical and Derek wouldn’t ever do anything about his ridiculous infatuation. Except, apparently, not being able to stop staring as Stiles moans and arches his back, the left hand going up to brace himself against the wall in front of him as he leans his head down between his shoulders.

Derek knows he should stop looking, knows he should turn away. He knows this but yet…

“Are you just going to watch or would you like to help me out?” Stiles voice is a bit throaty and the kid looks over his shoulder, meeting Derek’s eyes unashamed, and fucking _winks_. The movements of his hand don’t falter once.

“You’re a kid,” Derek says, throat clicking.

“I’m eighteen,” Stiles replies cheekily and don’t Derek know it. “Please, Coach Hale.”

“Don’t call me that,” Derek says instead of ‘get your pants on and get out of here’ which is what he’d tell anyone else. After all, Stiles isn’t the first student that has tried to seduce him. He’s the only one Derek’s ever wanted though.

“Derek,” Stiles moans instead, sending shivers down Derek’s spine. “Please, I want you, _fuck_.”

Stiles shudders visibly and Derek must be crazy but he steps up behind Stiles, not caring that his clothes and shoes gets wet. He presses his whole front to Stiles’ back, hoping this isn’t some elaborate plan to get him fired, and circles Stiles’ waist with his arms. Stiles leans his head back and sighs.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you…” Stiles groans and Derek mouths at his jawline.

He sneaks a hand around Stiles and covers Stiles’ hand with his own. He looks down over Stiles’ shoulder at their joined hands over Stiles’ dick. It’s flushed pink and so hard. Derek flicks his thumb over the head. He wants to get down on his knees and taste him, but Stiles is whining and bucking against him, his hand now gripping Derek’s forearm instead.

“Shit, fuck, I’mma-”

“Yeah,” Derek whispers and bites softly on Stiles’ jaw as he jerks him quickly. Stiles arches his back again, thrusting his ass against Derek’s jean clad – and very hard – cock, and moaning loudly. He shudders as he comes and Derek jerks him slowly until Stiles makes a pitiful sound in the back of his throat.

“Fuck,” Stiles mutters and leans his forehead against the wall, his ass still pressed against Derek’s crotch. “Give me a few minutes and then you can fuck me.”

Derek groans at that. He’s been dreaming about fucking Stiles, almost everywhere, but he must’ve fantasized about fucking Stiles in the showers at least a dozen times.

“Are you sure?” Derek leans forward and presses soft kisses to Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles turns his head and smiles at him.

“I’ve been dreaming about you since I was a freshman,” he says, “You were a senior, I doubt you noticed me.”

Derek hadn’t. He swallows. He’s not sure if this is just some fantasy of Stiles’ that he’s fulfilling or if it’s something more. God, does he want it to be something more, but if this is all he can have then he’ll take it.

Stiles smiles and presses their lips together. Derek sighs and tugs softly at Stiles’ hair, trying to angle his head better for kissing. Stiles grins as he turns around and leans against the wall, tugging Derek against him with his fingers in Derek’s belt loops. Derek kisses him, this angle is much better. He uses everything he’s learnt, licking at Stiles’ lips and biting them softly, making sure they’ll be puffy pink for at least an hour afterwards. Stiles leans his head back against the tiles and gasps while Derek wastes no time to kiss Stiles’ throat, licking and sucking on the pale, sensitive skin there. Stiles moans as he curls his hand into Derek’s hair.

“Fuck, I’m ready soon,” he moans and Derek smiles at the teenage stamina.

“Are you sure?” he asks again, leaning back to look Stiles in the eye. Stiles’ usually light-brown eyes are almost covered by the pupils and the eye-lashes have clustered together because of the water, a few droplets clinging to the hairs still. Stiles’ cheeks are flushed pink and his lips are wet and red. He’s gorgeous.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“I-” Derek hesitates, wonders if he’s even in a position to ask for anything Stiles hasn’t asked for.

“What?”

“Can I rim you?”

Stiles groans and staggers in Derek’s arms – Derek’s pretty sure he’d fallen if Derek hadn’t had his arms around him.

“Fuck, yeah,” he moans and Derek smiles and leans in to kiss him filthily, thrusting in his tongue the same way he’ll soon do to Stiles’ ass. He can’t wait.

“Turn around,” he says and Stiles scrambles to obey. He leans one hand against the tiles again.

“Like this?”

Derek nods and sinks to his knees so he’s in eye-level with Stiles’ ass. Stiles’ beautiful, perfect ass. He squeezes the globes of his ass cheeks, reveling in how they’re the perfect size for his hands. Stiles makes an unintelligent sound from above him and leans both hands against the wall. Derek spreads the cheeks and watches as Stiles’ pink hole flutters as waters dribble down over it. He leans in and licks once over the hole.

“Oh, fuck!” Stiles swears and moves so he can lean his elbows against the wall instead. At the same time he spreads his legs and pushes out his ass. He’s totally unashamed. Derek loves it.

He kisses Stiles’ hole again, licks with the flat of his tongue, and Stiles moans softly above him. Derek varies the broad licks with harsher stabs of his tongue right against Stiles’ hole and when he feels less resistance pushes his tongue inside. Stiles makes a sobbing sound and chants swearwords and praises and Derek’s name under his breath. Derek doesn’t know how long he eats Stiles out but his jaw and tongue start to get sore so instead he moves his head away, kisses Stiles’ ass cheek as he pushes one finger inside. Stiles arches his back and moans loudly when Derek prods at his prostate.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants. “It’s never felt this good with my own finger. Jesus, fuck, Derek.”

“Have you ever…?”

Derek doesn’t know how to ask if Stiles is a virgin. He has always assumed he isn’t, because with those hands and hips people should line up to fuck him or get fucked by him.

“Had sex with someone other than myself? Have you met me? People don’t want to sex me up.”

“ _I_ want to sex you up,” Derek counters as he fucks his finger into Stiles’ ass, feeling the heat and tight walls around it. Fuck, it’ll feel amazing around his dick.

“You’ve probably hit your head one too many times,” Stiles grins down cheekily and Derek can’t have him talking about himself like that. He pulls out his finger, smiling at the sound of disappointment Stiles makes, and gets to his feet in one swift motion. He turns Stiles around so they’re face to face.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he says, frowning at Stiles, who rolls his eyes. “I’m serious. I _want_ you.”

Stiles snorts.

“Yeah, probably because I was _presenting_ myself to you. Finstock has already walked in three times when I was waiting for you, it was quite embarrassing.”

Derek can’t help but chuckle at that, but he needs to address the most important issue here.

“I want you, Stiles. Not because I walked in on you. I’ve been watching you since I started here. I risk losing my job for this, you know that right?”

Something in Stiles’ face hardens and he takes a small step backwards, so his back is against the wall.

“Right, I get it, I’ll just-”

“Don’t you get it?” Derek says and tightens his hold on Stiles’ waist. “You’re worth it. You’re worth losing my job.”

Stiles’ eyes widen and Derek wants to take back what he said. It’s one thing to admit that he’s been looking at Stiles like some creep, another thing entirely to confess his love to him. Stiles’ next movement isn’t to pull away though, but practically throw himself at Derek, his arms winding around Derek’s neck as he crashes their lips together. Derek smiles into the kiss and presses their bodies together.

[Alternate ending]

“Here,” Stiles says and shoves a bottle of lube in Derek’s hands. Derek snorts and gives Stiles an amused glance. “What? I came prepared.”

“I’m glad,” Derek mumbles against Stiles’ lips and Stiles grins at him when he moves back.

“You should get off your clothes,” Stiles tells him.

Derek nods and steps out of the spray of water from the shower. He hands Stiles back the lube, just thinking that Stiles will hold onto it, instead Stiles surprises him (of course he does). When Derek tugs off his shirt Stiles pours a liberal amount of lube into his hand and then reaches behind himself. All the air leaves Derek’s lungs as Stiles bites his lips as his breathing gets harder.

“Hey, don’t stop!” Stiles orders and Derek realizes he’s been standing with his shirt halfway up his torso, staring at Stiles. He pulls it off quickly and then goes for his shoes, that are completely soaked through – but then he straightens himself after pulling off his shoes and socks and he can’t even care because Stiles turns around, presenting his back and _two_ of his fingers pumping in and out of his ass. Derek has probably never gotten out of his pants this quickly in his whole life. When he’s naked, he steps up behind Stiles again and caresses Stiles’ hand that pump his fingers in and out of his ass.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he mumbles into Stiles’ hair.

Stiles makes a content sound and turns around.

“Fuck,” he says and pulls Derek against his front. Derek moans shamelessly as their cocks brush against each other and watches as Stiles’ eyes flutter closed. “I know you were ripped, but dude, your body is, like, god-like or something. Greek god, that’s what it is. And dude, your dick. Fuck, I-”

Stiles moans as Derek thrusts against him. He reaches around Stiles’ body and pushes the tip of his fingers against Stiles’ rim, where he can feel it clutch around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he mumbles and kisses Stiles. He looks around and finds the lube bottle on the soap holder. He picks it up and covers his fingers in a liberal amount before bringing them back to Stiles’ hole.

“Fucking fuck,” Stiles gasps as Derek presses in one finger next to Stiles’ two. “ _Oh._ ”

“God, Stiles,” Derek moans as Stiles clamps down on his fingers.  “Fuck.”

“I’m ready, fuck, I’m so ready,” Stiles whines and pulls his fingers and Derek’s out.

“Are you-?”

“If you’re going to ask me if I’m sure one more time I’m walking out of here,” Stiles threatens. It’s probably an empty threat but Derek wouldn’t want to find out. He nods and kisses Stiles again.

“So how do we-?” Stiles asks. “From behind?”

Derek nods, “I think that’d be easiest. Tell me if it hurts or feel uncomfortable, okay?”

“Seriously, dude, if you-”

“I want you to enjoy it,” Derek interrupts Stiles before the other man can start complain at him for caring. Because he does care. He cares so much it hurts.

“Okay, the same goes for you,” Stiles smiles, presses a heated, filthy kiss against Derek’s lips before he turns around, bracing himself against the wall and wiggles his ass. His hole is pink and wet and opened and _fuck_ …

“What are you waiting for?”

“Condom,” Derek says suddenly.

“Oh,” Stiles says as he presents a foil package to Derek with a smirk. The rips open the package and rolls on the condom, forcing himself not come, squeezing the base of his cock.

“What are you waiting for now then?” Stiles asks impatiently.

“If I push in now I’ll come at once,” Derek tells him and Stiles’ cheeks flush even more at this and he looks immensely pleased with himself. Derek hugs him from behind, teasing the tip of his cock against Stiles’ hole and Stiles moans and leans his head back to Derek’s shoulder.

“You okay?” Derek asks and Stiles nods and tugs at Derek’s hair until Derek kisses him.

“Now, put your dick in me,” Stiles orders.

Derek snorts into his neck.

“And who said romance was dead?”

“Oh, shut it, I’m gonna romance the fuck out of you some other time, it’ll be roses and candles and dinner and- _oh!_ ”

Derek pushes the tip of his cock inside and braces one hand on the wall while holding the other around Stiles’ waist.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Stiles moans. “More, give me more, dammit.”

“Bossy,” Derek mutters but obliges, slowly pushing inside until he’s buried to the base.

“If you don’t move I’mma force you onto your back and ride you like Seabiscuit.”

While Derek isn’t opposed to Stiles riding him, it’s not what he’s got planned now, so he pulls out slowly before pushing back in equally slowly.

“I’m not gonna break,” Stiles moans and thrusts back, hard, when Derek has almost pulled out all the way.

After that it’s a mess of hard thrusts until all Derek can feel is pleasure and _more_ and _yes_ and _Stiles_. Stiles is loud, moaning and swearing, which isn’t really a surprise. Derek loves it. He sucks and kisses and licks on Stiles’ neck and shoulder as he thrusts in and out, his hips moving on their own volition.

“Derek, fuck, I’m close,” Stiles moans and Derek pushes at his head so Stiles will lean forwards, against the wall, before he grips both of Stiles’ hips and uses them for leverage. He thrusts once, twice, three times, and then Stiles is screaming, his back arching and his whole body tensing as he comes onto the wall in front of them. His hole clenches and Derek feels his balls tighten as his own orgasm approaches quickly. He curls over Stiles’ body, bracing one hand on the wall and the other around Stiles’ waist as he comes, deep into Stiles.

They stay like that for a while, breathing heavily and Derek notices the water pouring down on his back for the first time.

“That was…”

He kisses Stiles’ neck and Stiles moans in reply.

“Awesome,” he breathes, “it was awesome.”

Derek nods and pulls out slowly before straightening, bringing Stiles’ body upright with him. He ties off the condom and throws it towards the trashcan by the door. He pulls Stiles around and more under the spray, pressing kisses to his cheeks and lips, letting Stiles lean against him.

“Fuck, I might be in love with you,” Stiles says and Derek’s heart might skip a beat. It might just be the post-orgasm bliss talking, but Derek really hope it isn’t.

“You’re okay?” he asks and Stiles smiles up at him, looking fucked out, for a lack of better word.

“Never better,” he says. “So, my dad is working night, you don’t mind me staying with you, do you?”

“Never.”

Derek presses their lips together.

It still takes them quite some time before they’re ready to leave the showers, content to just stand beneath the water spray, touching each other softly and trading soft kisses.

When they finally get out, Derek’s glad he’s got spare clothes so he doesn’t have to walk home in his wet clothes. But when he looks at Stiles who walks beside him, holding his hand as he talks about superheroes, Derek thinks he wouldn’t even mind walking home in wet clothes. Some things are worth it. _Stiles_ is worth it.


End file.
